


Destiny and Misunderstandings

by Peggo



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Get Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Platonic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26047429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peggo/pseuds/Peggo
Summary: Ali and Joe are soulmates.Jos sees Ali's name on Joe's wrist and gets the wrong end of the stick, thinking they're together.
Relationships: Alastair Cook & Joe Root, Jimmy Anderson/Alastair Cook, Jos Buttler/Joe Root
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	Destiny and Misunderstandings

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you has got to go to sherlockguineapig, whose fics i used a lot for timeline, and I really hope this doesn't like count as plagiarism or something.  
> A Roses Match was the first cricket fic I read, followed pretty much straight away by The Way You Look Tonight and I revisited them for this fic, so thank you thank you thank you.  
> Xx

Joe’s sat at the breakfast table, chatting with his family on the morning of his fifteenth birthday, still in his pyjamas and wrapped up in a blanket to protect himself against the late December chill. 

When his brother slumps down opposite him after his mum had called up the stairs for the third time, asking Joe to pass the milk, just like he always does, Joe’s already reached a hand from out his duvet and is halfway to stretching his hand outwards to the milk. 

Billy’s spoon clatters back into his bowl, displacing Frosties, and causing his mum to bite back a curse, as she turns to chastise Billy and ask ‘ _What the hell do you think you’re doing Billy_ ’. But Billy is staring at the milk, as though it’s somehow grown legs and is walking itself over to Billy, not being pushed by Joe.

“Mum. Mum, look. Joe’s got a tattoo.” 

None of Joe’s family have tattoos; not everyone does. Joe hadn’t even thought to check when he’d woken up they were that rare. You didn’t need them, his parents were the happiest people he’d ever seen and they didn’t have each others’ names on their wrists. Although, soulmates didn’t even have to be romantic; he remembers his year one teacher and the school receptionist had been platonic soulmates, and he had never seen two people have so much fun at work, or _ever_ , even when Miss Jones had convinced Paul to enter into the three legged race in Sports Day, despite Paul being on crutches at the time with a torn achilles and they had laughed their way around the course, celebrating their last place as though they’d won gold at the Olympics.

Joe looks at his wrist in surprise, turning it to face him and sees _Alastair N. Cook_ in neat handwriting, with the ‘t’ hastily crossed as though as an afterthought. The name seems familiar, _Alastair Cook_ , and he goes through his mind, trying to remember where he might have heard of him before, maybe he had been at school with him when he was younger, or perhaps played against him, maybe. 

His dad also seems to have recognised the name, and leans back on his chair in thought, setting his cuppa down in front of him to stop him from spilling it down himself if his chair wobbles with a creased brow and hands behind his head. 

“Alastair Cook, hmm? Isn’t that the lad who won the PCA Young Cricketer of the Year, and that other one, what’s that other one? He won that as well, anyway, whatever it is, I’m pretty sure.” His chair swings forward, and he claps his hand down on the table, with a victorious _aha_. “Cricket Writers’ Club Young Cricketer of the Year, that’s the one. He won that as well. Essex lad, I believe.”

Of course his soulmate is a cricketer. A damn good cricketer, too, by the sounds of things. It made sense: Joe couldn’t imagine being destined to someone who thought that cricket was boring, romantic _or_ platonic soulmate or not. He struggled at the best of times to find common ground without cricket forming at least a small part of their chats.

 _Alastair Cook,_ he thought to himself, _Go well._

* * *

He doesn't meet Alastair Cook for another four years. His first encounter is during a match and Joe can’t let himself get worked up for _how_ he’s going to introduce himself, how he’s going to approach this man because he needs to do well in the match, prove his worth. All he’s focussing on is where the next wicket is coming from or how he can stop the runs. So when the ball comes this way, off the edge of the batsman’s bat, he stoops to try and salvage the catch, and he throws his arms in the air, appealing like there’s no tomorrow until the Umpire gives it out. He’s not totally convinced that it carried, but it doesn’t matter; it’s a wicket. As his teammates come to celebrate he sees the batsman turn to shake his head in disbelief and Joe stops his celebrations when he sees who it was. 

His dubious catch had just got _Alastair Cook_ out, and oh my goodness how is he going to introduce himself after this, ‘hi sorry about that catch but can we move past that, that’s not important right now, I am Joseph E. Root with the scruffy handwriting whose name is on your wrist.’ Tim Bresnan must notice him stop his celebration, because he nudges Joe, asking him if he’s OK, and Joe just nods, returning to his position in the slips, clapping his hands together and shouting some encouragement to the other lads, mind buzzing.

Joe’s packing away his kit, his dad had texted him that him and his mum were out front waiting for him a couple of minutes ago and he’s just doing up his laces when there’s a knock at the door, and Alastair comes in. When he spots Joe, he grins and makes his way over, greeting some of the Yorkshire lads that he’s known from the county circuit and England as he passes them.

“That was not out, Joseph E. Root.” 

And just like that it’s like they’ve known each other for forever. They slot into place straight away, Joe sitting back down on the bench and Ali sitting next to him as he asks Ali whether he thinks his soulmate is a _liar_ , and they stay there until the dressing room’s empty and Joe’s parents have had enough of waiting and come up to see what’s taking so long. 

When they see what the delay is they’re thrilled, his dad shaking Ali’s hand, congratulating him on his recent England success, and Joe’s mum hugging him tightly, feeling somewhat relieved that she’s not going to have to suddenly arrange a marriage between her nineteen year old son and this twenty five year old Essex man, or whatever the protocol is for someone who’s found their _romantic_ soulmate, because it’s clear that Joe and Alastair are platonic soulmates. 

They set up Sunday Roast arrangements for Ali to come round theirs, with his mum promising to dig out Joe’s baby photos by then, much to Joe’s embarrassment and Ali’s delight, and _how had he already become Ali,_ Joe’s not sure but they exchange numbers and there are no words to describe how it feels as he hugs Ali goodbye, nothing could have prepared him for it, he feels _safe_. 

It’s better than any of the stories.

* * *

Joe and Ali don’t get to play _together_ until 2012, when Joe gets his call up to be a part of the England squad in their tour of India. Joe knew it was Ali’s first series as full time captain and how that must be playing on his mind, and he lay in his bed in the weeks preceding the flight out to India dreaming of opening the batting with Ali, what it would be like to watch him from the other end, how it would feel to build a partnership with him. 

He arrives at the airport 15 minutes early, expecting to be the first, but Ali’s already there, hugging him and putting him at ease immediately. The rest of the squad aren’t there yet, but Ali must have known that Joe would get there fifteen minutes before the stated time on the email, and had made sure to get there twenty minutes early. 

Ali lets Joe go, stepping back to look at him and smiling at him and they make their way to the Costa, Ali getting a cup of coffee, and Joe ordering a tea. They take their drinks to a table in the corner, handed to them by a bleary eyed barista and Ali stirs the milk into his coffee saying, 

“I can’t promise you’ll play, I’m afraid, but what I _can_ say is I’m so glad you’re here.” He sets the teaspoon down on the saucer and takes a sip. “The lads know I have your name, by the way. Don’t worry,” he smiles reassuringly at Joe, whose eyes had widened in shock, “They’re all fine with it, they know I’ll put the team first and _I_ know you’ll understand when I do put the team first, but it’s best not to have big secrets like that when you’re a team.” He laughs a hollow sort of laugh and Joe wonders if he’s thinking back to the texts and KP, but knows better than to ask. 

Joe _does_ get to play, in the end, although maybe not as soon as he might have hoped. Ali invites Joe to his room the night before the fifth test at Nagpur and tells him the selectors want to strengthen their batting line up, and that they want Joe to replace Samit. He’s not opening, in fact he’s coming at number _six_ , but he’ll be _playing._ It’s what he’s dreamed of, and he’s buzzing. He returns to the room he’s sharing with Jonny and as he flicks the light on it’s like he’d also flicked a switch inside and the nerves hit him like a freight train. He sinks onto his bed, pale faced and overwhelmed and when Jonny comes out from his shower he sees Joe stock still in the same place. 

It’s not just his test debut that’s making Joe nervous, although that is definitely a part of it, it’s the additional feeling that he needs to prove that his selection is justified, and that his name’s not being written down on the team sheet because it’s also written on Ali’s wrist. Jonny listens as Joe voices his concerns, with an ‘ _oh Joey,’_ before he sends Joe back to Ali’s room.

Ali is talking to Jimmy when Joe and Jonny knock, feeling unsettled and sick to the stomach though he can’t work out why. He sees Jonny herd the small blonde soon-to-be-debutant into Ali’s room and he’s up from his bed immediately, murmuring reassurance in Joe’s ear as they stand in front of the bathroom door and Jonny backs out the door, smiling gratefully at Ali before returning to his room. Jimmy excuses himself not long after saying he needs to go chat to Stuart, with a vague ‘bowler stuff’ and a wave of his hand, leaving Joe and Ali on their bed, huddled up and talking quietly. 

When Jimmy gets back to his room he finds the lights still on but Joe and Ali asleep in the bed. As he brushes his teeth he marvels at just how young the twenty one year old looks huddled up in Ali’s arms, and he can’t bring himself to hold it against the lad as he clambers into the bed near the window that hasn’t been slept in yet, he could remember how nerve-wracking his debut had been _without_ the internal pressure of being the captain’s soulmate. 

(Joe needn’t have worried, Ali thinks, as he watches him in the centre lift his bat for his half century, at the same ground Ali had made his own debut, and grins down at him, giving him a thumbs up.)

(And when Joe finishes with his 20* and the match drawn, the series won, ending 28 years of not winning in India, his own elation is amplified by Ali’s joy and a sense of relief and he wouldn’t have changed his debut for the world.)

The India tour is one of the best experiences, if not _the_ best experience, of Joe’s life. He has made his Test, T20 and ODI debuts. He’s got to pick the brains of the best cricketers in the country and the best coaches available. He’s got to start to call these cricketers his friends. A particular highlight is that he’s got to know Jos Buttler better, would even go so far as to say that they could become best friends.

He’d always known Jos, playing together in England training camps and seeing each other on the county circuits ending up sat together post-match since they were around the same age. They found themselves in a similar predicament on this tour, both of them young players far from home, and Jos spends a lot of time in Joe and Jonny’s room, playing Fifa or cards. 

It’s the start of a close knit friendship and Joe returns home with Jos’ number and socials. Whenever Somerset play Yorkshire they grab a drink after and make sure to make time for each other after the match, regardless of the result. Jos texts Joe as he watches the Test matches on the TV, and Joe always makes sure to reply as soon as he gets his phone back at the end of each day. 

As Jos watches the England team lift the urn and with champagne flying he sends his usual congratulatory text to Joe, to add to the twenty odd live reaction texts he’d sent throughout that day, although he doesn’t expect a response for a while. 

In the dressing room the players get the phones back, and Ali raises an eyebrow as Joe opens his, making his way across the dressing room and slinging an arm around Joe’s shoulder.

“Why are we so happy?” 

“We just won the Ashes, Ali?”

“This is true,” he laughs and messes Joe’s hair, “But that doesn’t explain the little thrill I got in my stomach just now, does it Joseph?”

Joe grumbles about how this soulmates thing is not worth it if it means Ali uses it for blackmail, and how he’d rather have Jimmy’s name (eliciting a snort from Ali), before Ali rests his head on Joe’s shoulder, and tells him, 

“We have half an hour to get changed before we go out, you know. If you get a headstart now you have time to shower, _and_ call whoever it is has got you feeling like this.” 

And _this_ is why it is so worth it having Ali as a soulmate, and Joe wouldn’t swap him for Jimmy _or anyone_ for that matter, and as he towel dries his hair, he calls Jos and settles down on his bed, talking through the matches, describing his first innings 68, and they both express admiration for Watson’s 176. Joe doesn’t realise how long they’ve been chatting until Ali comes into his room, asking whether he’s ready to come down, and he hastily says his goodbyes to Jos and goes to join the celebrations.

* * *

When Jos arrives in Australia for the ODIs, during the Ashes down under he doesn’t think that this atmosphere could be further from the elation that he’d seen when he’d watched the England team’s victory lap around the Oval. The Test Team look wrecked, there were clear fractures in the team, and when he first sees Joe he almost doesn’t believe that this could be the same Joe he’d said goodbye to at home. His usual cheerful demeanor has been replaced by slumped shoulders and bags under his eyes and he looks like shit. Despite his 87 in the second match Joe had been out of the runs, and Jos could tell it was weighing on him, not necessarily for his own pride, though of course runs always helped ease a batsman’s mind, but because Jos knew he wanted to help Alastair and alleviate some of the tension and pressure weighing on his captain.

He wasn’t sure what the relationship was between Ali and Joe, since Jos was fairly convinced that Jimmy and Alastair were definitely a thing (no way do you come up to Lancashire to support your mate in a _friendly_ as often as Alastair does for Jimmy) but Alastair and Joe always seemed to know how to look after each other, and he feels a pang of jealousy at how easy their relationship is. The way Joe and Jimmy were always looking out for Alastair, and how Alastair was always making time for Joe. The amount of time Joe spent in Alastair and Jimmy’s room, and the fact they ate breakfast together every morning. 

(He also doesn’t understand how Alastair could tell Joe he wasn’t playing in the final test when they were that close, though he knows Joe wouldn’t hold it against him, but when Gary lets him into their room and he sees Joe sat on his bed, staring blankly ahead he can’t help but wonder how anyone could do that to Joe. And when the anger comes from Joe, it’s not at Alastair, but at himself for not scoring enough runs, not doing enough and Jos wonders how Alastair knew when to come back, because as soon as Joe starts berating himself for his contributions there’s a knock at the door and Alastair is coming into the room, reassuring Joe that he’ll have his opportunity again, and changes had to be made and he was sorry that it was Joe, but that’s the way it’s gone, he’ll support him no matter what and be back in the team in no time.) 

On the final day, as Michael Clarke throws the ball in the air in celebration and the Australians converge around their captain, jumping up and down and stealing the white wash Jos watches and his heart breaks for the Test team. When they’ve made it back to the hotel, subdued and heads hanging low, the limited over boys are there waiting for them. Although none of them know what to say they want the lads to know they’re there for them, to offer any support that they can.

Jos doesn’t miss the way that Alastair and Joe are holding hands as they get off the bus, Joe’s eyes red rimmed and looking like he might start crying at any moment. Joe leaves Ali as they enter the hotel, hurrying past everyone and going up to his room, and although Alastair watches him go, he makes no move to follow him. Instead he looks at Jos and nods an almost imperceptible jerk of the head, before turning to Jimmy and Jos turns on his heel and heads to the lifts. When he makes it to Joe’s room, the lights are off and the room is filled with heart wrenching sobs that are racking Joe’s body. Jos feels woefully ill equipped to be dealing with such a distraught Joe but when Joe turns to see who it is, hiccupping as he looks at Jos, before trying to wipe his eyes and smile, attempting to regain control of his breathing, asking Jos what he can do for him, Jos is glad that he’s seeing this, not anyone else. Jos sits next to Joe, not touching him, unsure how Joe would react to contact, instead simply giving him verbal reassurance, and filling the silence that stretched between them, giving Joe time to compose himself and reminding him he wasn’t alone. 

It doesn’t get better for Joe or the other England boys either, as the winter goes on, losing the ODI series 4-1, and despite Joe bowling well, his batting is sub-par and he’s dropped again. He doesn’t take it as hard as he had when he’d learned he wouldn’t be in that final test, but Jos can tell there’s still a lot of sadness from the younger lad as he tells Jos to go well before the third test. 

(Of course, Joe makes it back into the team for the final ODI, scoring a fluent 55, and while, unfortunately, it’s not enough for the side to pull through and win the final match, it feels good to score some runs and be back in the side. He’s still not sure when he’ll next play a Test match and that _hurts_ )

* * *

Joe returns the favour when England crash out of the World Cup, beaten by the _Netherlands_ , having missed out on the series himself with his broken thumb, which he’d got at the start of his innings in the third ODI, but had gone on to get his first century in ODIs, (and then managed to snag himself a wicket, much to Ali’s distress, from where he was watching at home with Jimmy, cradling his hand to his chest. Joe had been hit early in the game, causing Ali to drop his mug in the kitchen and run through to the TV where the cricket was playing, and causing Jimmy to run down the stairs in concern to check on him. When Joe had come out to field, Ali had sworn like a sailor and Jimmy considered sending Joe some flowers just for giving him the privilege to hear Ali call Joe a ‘dickbiscuit’ with ‘no fucking sense of self-preservation, that little crapbasket’ shaking out his hand. And when Joe had said in post-match interviews, going up to receive player of the match that his mum always told him ‘if it’s not broken or bleeding you can probably carry on’ Jimmy had howled with laughter as Ali sat on the sofa mouthing ‘not broken or bleeding’, ‘ _not broken_ or bleeding’ over and over to himself.) 

When the team had trooped off the plane from Bangladesh Joe had already invited Jos round to his, so he didn’t have to be alone, picking him up from the train station and taking him back to his apartment. He’d set a cup of tea in front of Jos, and put on a jazz CD, just listening to Jos who was trying to make sense of what had gone so wrong. And Joe sits there, supporting him through it and letting him say everything he’d been thinking the whole tour and been too afraid to vocalise, or even to acknowledge.

And it’s _nice_ to have someone who understands like Joe does, Jos thinks. Someone who knows the pressures of international cricket intimately, not an outsider looking in. Because if Joe hadn’t offered he would have had his family, of course he would always have his family, to listen to what was weighing down on him, but they wouldn’t have been able to look Jos back in the eye with the amount of understanding that Joe did. Genuine pain and offering advice that he needed to hear from someone who’d been there too. They fall asleep on the sofa together, Louis Armstrong still singing about La Vie en Rose in the background. 

* * *

Jos makes his test debut in 2014 against India at Southampton, scoring a half century and the series is a huge success. When they finish the final match, winning by an innings and _244_ runs, with Joe as man of the match for his 149* and Jimmy as player of the series and Jos is riding high watching his best friend beam at everyone, hugging everyone in range as Jimmy, more reservedly handed out some high fives. 

At afters in the dressing room, Jos makes his way over to Joe, where he’s stood with Broady, Jimmy and Ali, and he’s halfway over when he sees Broady pass Joe a drink, who reaches out to accept it and Jos feels all the elation and joy of winning a test match fall, and he feels like he’s just been hit in the gut with a 90mph ball. 

Usually covered by wristbands and long sleeves, Jos had never noticed that Joe had _words_ . Jos had never noticed that neatly on Joe’s wrist was the name _Alastair N. Cook_ , in disgustingly tidy cursive, and _of course_ their captain had neat and joined up writing. 

“You OK, Jos? Good knock earlier, that 45, not to mention that run out.” It’s Alastair, turning to include him in the conversation, and no wonder he and Joe are soulmates, they’re both so alike, so aware and kind hearted, working hard to make sure no one was ever excluded and he needs to get out of here. 

He forces a smile before saying, 

“Thanks, Cookie. I’m not too sure, to be honest, I’m feeling a bit off. I was actually wondering whether I could maybe just go back to the hotel early and try to sleep it off?” 

Immediately Jos feels matching looks of concern from Alastair and Joe, and Alastair is immediately reassuring him that _of course it’s OK, do you want us to come with you, Joey could you-_ but Jos waves it off, saying he’d rather just lie in a dark room right now, thank you but he’d manage by himself, not mentioning that he’s not sure he could deal with Alastair or Joe right now.

In the end, Jimmy comes with him, getting him water and dimming the lights, looking at Jos with concern, but Jos can’t deal with this today. Can’t explain to Jimmy what’s wrong. Can’t say that he feels sick, not because of any sort of bug or any sort of _illness_ but because he’s in love with Joe, he’s in love with Joe and he’s realised it too late. He’s in love with Joe who was never destined to love him back. That’s why he feels like his insides have dropped out, why he feels sick to the stomach and ready to cry. 

He pretends to fall asleep after about half an hour, not ready to talk to Jimmy yet, and thanks small mercies that he did, when not even ten minutes later Joe and Alastair make their way in. He hears Alastair ask Jimmy, 

“How is he?” and Jimmy gives him a low reply that he can’t quite catch. Someone fixes his blanket, pressing the back of their hand to his forehead, and then Joe is speaking from above him, 

“He’s not got a temperature,” And he has no right to sound so worried, so much like he _cares_ , thinks Jos, “That’s good, right?”

“Definitely a positive,” replies Alastair, and Jos hates how Alastair can reassure Joe with such ease as he hears Joe release a breath, “We should let him sleep, c’mon, Joey, let’s go get ready.” 

Jos stays lying with his eyes shut as he hears the three men leave the room. 

_Cmon, Joey, let’s go get ready._

The lads go out after that victory, but Jos feigns sleep and illness to avoid it, missing the way Joe’s brow creased in concern and that Jimmy and Ali are holding hands. Once the lads are gone from the hotel he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying hard not to let the tears that are threatening to spill escape. Without realising it he has pulled out his phone and is calling his mum. 

She picks up on the third ring, sounding slightly surprised, but congratulating him on his debut, telling him how proud they are of him and how Mrs Wilson from next door is telling everyone that she knows him and about how he used to cat sit for her, and she thought he’d be celebrating by now, sweet pea. She finally pauses, waiting for him to say something.

“Mum?” 

And Jos hates the way his voice trembles slightly, how small he feels. But because it’s his mum, she knows. She doesn’t make him say anything more. She just says, tone softer than he’s heard it for years since he was younger and had done badly in a match, or an exam,

“Come home, sweetie. Come home for the weekend.”

* * *

His parents and sister are waiting for him by the cheerful ‘Welcome to Taunton’ sign, and he piles into the car ready for the drive home, feeling 15 again coming back from a sports course. The train journey down had been uneventful, Jos had tried to read his book but had found himself reading and re-reading the same sentence again without anything sinking in, and feeling dull and numb as English countryside flashes by. 

No one says anything on the drive home, and he studiously ignores the concerned glances his mum sends him in the rear view mirror. He feels empty the whole journey home, and when he’s back he goes straight to his room with his bags, mechanically unpacking his clothes and refolding them to put into his drawers. 

As he reunites two socks there’s a hesitant knock at the door, and his mum’s asking if she can come in. When he gives the affirmative she comes in, smiling sadly and looking at him with all the love in the world, sitting cross legged on the bed, and gesturing for him to join him.

“Oh Jos, sweetpea,” she says, as he sits next to her, feeling too big to be wrapped up in her arms, but too tired to care, “Who broke your heart?” 

And just like that he’s crying. Because he hadn’t even had a chance, would never have a shot. It’s not like they’d been dating and Joe had broken up with him and he could hate Joe. He tells his mum about how he hadn’t even fucking realised he was in love with Joe until he saw the words, and he hadn’t realised that Joe and Alastair were a thing until then either. How he _should have realised_ ; they went for a run together every morning, Alastair brought Joe his tea every morning, with the milk already stirred in the way he liked it. The way they talked batting with such mutual respect, but unafraid to point out flaws. Their solidity, their similarities. And he cries. Cries like he can’t ever remember crying, his mum’s arms around him the only thing holding him together. He feels like a child again, but the ache in his heart is nothing that he ever would have experienced when he was younger. 

His sister pokes her head around the door, and when she sees him, curled in on himself being held together by their mum, nose running and eyes swollen, and she breathes out her own, _oh Jossy_ , before clambering onto the bed to join them. And they stay there, just letting each other breathe, finding comfort in just being _together_ , even as the smell of tea starts to drift up from the kitchen where Jos’ dad has started to prepare the shepherd’s pie. And even though Jos knows he can’t take refuge here forever, has got to return to the team, face Joe and Alastair again, he just closes his eyes, breathing in the familiar perfume that his mum’s worn for as long as he can remember and just lets time stand still. 

* * *

Jos’ mum tells him that his old friend, Louise, is back from being away for a bit, too, and he texts her saying that he’s in the area and asking whether she’d like to catch up. When he gets a text about an hour later saying she’d love to, and how about the new place that had popped up since they’d been gone, _The Muse_ , about a five minute walk from where he was and apparently very good. 

Him and Louise had been friends all the way through school, _best_ friends even, but when she’d moved to London for a bit, and as cricket had got more serious they’d drifted apart somewhat. But when he opens the door to _the Muse_ and Louise stands up and gives him a hug, they’re chatting like they did in Year 11 and trying to catch each other up on everything that’s happened in the past seven or so years. 

And Louise has always been too observant for her own good, and she looks at him as she cuts a corner off her Victoria Sponge with her fork and asks, 

“So what are _you_ hiding from that’s brought you back here?” 

Jos jerks his head up, and she’s looking at him with a sadness in her own eyes and he knows that she’s back here to escape, too. And so he tells her, not mentioning names, but it feels lighter the second time he shares it. Louise, in return, tells him about her own situation; her boyfriend had a name on his wrist but they’d convinced themselves that whoever _Abbie E. Fletcher_ was, she'd be a platonic soulmate. When Abbie E. Fletcher had eventually appeared in their lives it had quickly become apparent that no matter what Theo said or how hard he tried they weren’t platonic. They weren’t fated to be ‘best friends’, and eventually their relationship had broken down. She stirs her lemonade with the paper straw, which by now has lost its shape and started to fold down into itself, chuckling to herself, 

“Fuck soulmates, man. I’m never falling in love with a named person again. It’s not worth it.” 

She raises her glass, and Jos taps his can against it, cheersing, 

“I’ll drink to that.”

* * *

Him and Louise get closer after that, texting regularly when they can, even skyping if they have the time. She’s met someone new, a bloke named Arthur, who has _not got so much as a dot on his wrist Jos, and the most intelligent man I think I’ve ever met, he’s getting a pHD,_ and Jos is thrilled for her. 

He’s not over Joe, he knows this and isn’t sure when he will be, but he’s getting better. He spends a lot less time with the younger batter, distancing himself and instead spending more time with Jonny. Although he misses Joe and what they had, he decides it’s better this way. Joe is happy with Alastair, and he’s not going to ruin that. 

Joe, in turn, spends more and more time with Ali and withdrawing somewhat from the rest of the team. He throws himself into his batting more than he did before, and it often takes Ali or Jimmy going down to the nets at the end of the day to drag him away. He spends hours with Ali, trying to work out what he’s done wrong, what he did to upset Jos. He’d wanted to ask Jos out for drinks after their series win against India, but then Jos had been ill, and then he’d gone home and he’d never had the chance.

And then Joe hears Jos say _I love you too, Lou_ down the phone after tea one day after training, and he turns on his heel, he making his way to Jimmy and Ali’s room on autopilot and just hugs Ali before stepping back, breathing out a shaky breath and announcing, 

“Jos has a girlfriend.” 

* * *

Jimmy decides things are out of hand on the plane to the West Indies for their tour. Ali had pulled him aside and let him know that Jimmy wouldn’t be sat next to Ali, but instead would be sat next to Jos, so he could sit next to Joe. He agrees begrudgingly, putting up a fight that Ali knows is pure theatrics because since when has he been able to say no to Ali, before settling down next to Jos as he finishes his call. 

“Girlfriend?” Jimmy asks, putting his bag beneath his seat and looking over at Jos. 

“What? Oh no, just Louise, she’s a mate from home. I don’t… we’re not...” and he glances to his left. Jimmy follows his eyeline, landing on Ali and Joe, where Joe has already settled his head into the crook of Ali’s neck and Ali’s cheek was pressed against the top of Joe’s head. Jimmy rolls his eyes, because honestly can’t they just sit like normal people for once. Jimmy also makes a mental note of the way that Jos clenches his hand into a fist at the sight, before releasing his hand, forcing it to sit flat on his thigh, and now, _isn’t that interesting._

Their hotel is beautiful, and Jimmy makes his way to his room where Ali is already lying on the bed. Dropping his bags on the spare bed, he turns to Ali, flopping down next to him with his head on Ali’s stomach and sighing. 

“I can’t believe you ditched me like that. Jos isn’t even going out with this Louise person. They’re childhood friends. I don’t know why Jos has distanced himself from Joe, but the idiot has a chance.” Ali swats at his head at the dig at Joe, but Jimmy knows he’s really thinking through what could have happened between Joe and Jos to have created such a fall out. 

He doesn’t find an opportunity to talk to Joe about Jos, and the fact that he is, in fact, _single_ , and the first test comes and goes. Joe makes a half century in both innings, but falls short of converting, and Ali decides desperate times call for desperate measures. 

They’re on the bus back to the hotel after drawing the first test match, when Ali lets the lads know that dinner will be about fifteen minutes later than usual, so _You have time to call your girlfriends and boyfriends back home, lads. Finny will want a call, won’t he Broady, and Jos, do you have a lovely lady or gentleman waiting for you back home?_

Jimmy drops his head into his hands in embarrassment and Ali would be the first to admit he could have had more tact, but he doesn’t care, watching as Jos starts, stammering out, 

“Oh, actually no, I don’t. I mean, I have family and friends? But no one, erm, no one like _that_.” 

(The next match Joe gets 182*. Ali likes to think at least part of that was down to him and _will_ be taking credit for at least 70 of those runs.)

While Ali has cleared things up on Joe’s side, Jimmy still feels like Jos has been neglected. He can’t criticise Ali for this; it’s only natural that he should focus on his soulmate’s feelings over Jos’, but he feels that maybe Ali’s desperate measures could have been a little more desperate. Which is why, when the boys are celebrating the series draw, with the second Test having been their first Test Match win away since 2012, and Ali stands him and Joe up, calling for a round of applause for Joe for being their highest run scorer that series, and another round of applause for Jimmy, for being player of the series and taking the most wickets, Jimmy turns to Ali and snogs him, hard, in front of the entire dressing room. 

The room erupts with hoots and wolf whistles, and he hears Joe holler, ‘Get some, Ali’ the cheeky shit, and he pulls away, leaving Ali flushed and breathless, and Jimmy scans the room to look for Jos, who looks like the carpet has been pulled out from under his feet. Ali looks at Jimmy, eyebrow raised, as if to say _What was that all about then, Jim_ , and Jimmy smirks back. _I’ll tell you later._

They’re on their way down from their rooms to the foyer to meet for the bus that’ll take them to the airport (and _home_ ). Jimmy is lugging his cases and kit to the lift and sees the doors closing. Calling out for whoever was in the lift to hold the doors, and breaks into a jog to make it into the lift. Jos is pressing the ‘doors open’ button, surrounded by his own kit bags and luggage, which he pulls closer to himself to make room for Jimmy and his stuff. He doesn’t meet Jimmy’s eye and Jimmy sees him take a deep breath in as the doors shut, before asking, 

“So. You and Ali?” Jimmy shoots him a sideways glance, eyebrows raised and Jos cringes, but Jimmy doesn’t seem to mind, 

“Yeah. Why d’you think we’re always sharing a room? Been going out for, what, must be just over five years now.” He smiles at Jos, before adding, “Might be time for some jewellery shopping when we’re home.” And he’s not sure why he tells Jos that- he’s not told _anyone_ yet, but he trusts Jos. 

And if Ali gets a Joe, _he_ gets a Jos. 

“What about Ali and Joe?” 

He gets a Jos, even if the Jos he has is a little slow. 

“Textbook platonic soulmates,” he replies, “ _Better_ than what textbook platonic soulmates would make you believe platonic soulmates are, to be honest. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Jimmy can tell that Jos is doing a lot of processing, he looks like his head’s up in the clouds and he can practically hear the cogs turning. As the lift reaches the ground floor and the doors ding Jos snaps out of his reverie, and he turns to Jimmy, 

“Congratulations, by the way, best of luck.” He pauses, and Jimmy goes to drag his stuff out of the lift as the doors slide open, “And... thank you.” Jimmy nods in acknowledgement and thanks of his own and they begin dragging their stuff into the foyer. Ali spots them enter, looking up from where he’s chatting with the coaches, pausing to smile at Jimmy, before returning to his conversation and Jos wonders how he missed all the little signs that were so clearly there (and he _had_ noticed, hadn’t he, when Ali had come to their friendlies, and suddenly he felt a flush of embarrassment at how quickly he’d made assumptions and jumped to conclusions.)

* * *

Jos tells Louise about Joe, lying in his bed, phone on speaker by his pillow. She, like him, berates herself for what she’d said about soulmates, apologising profusely which he laughs off, because in fairness, she’d been dealing with her own personal problems, and they knew better now. She laughs too, the sound slightly tinny through the speakers of his phone, and she laughs even harder when he tells her that the lads had thought they were dating, trying to compose herself before losing it again, restarting the same sentence at least five times, each time disintegrating into giggles again. He asks after her and Arthur, who are going well, taking it slow, but solid, and in turn she asks him what his ‘wooing plan’ is, and they spend the rest of the call coming up with increasingly ridiculous plans on how to ask Joe out.

Jos isn’t able to test any of their theories or plans because Ashes preparations begin and they’re training like there’s no tomorrow, leaving the lads knackered. When he explains how tired they all are and how busy their schedules are, Louise responds with an understanding, _ah not prime wooing time then_.

* * *

He thinks maybe after the Cardiff match that it would be a good time, ask Joe out for a drink in between matches, maybe even take him out for dinner, especially since Joe had done so well with his 134, 60 and two wickets in the match. They pile into the lounge, Jos laughing at a text from Louise that simply said _‘prime wooing time? go get ur man (of the match lol) xx’_ and Jos thinks that tonight’s the night when he finds himself next to Joe on the sofa. Unfortunately, the adrenaline has taken its toll on Joe, and he’s out like a light, sliding to his left onto Jos, and his head coming to rest on Jos’ shoulder. Jos carefully sets his beer bottle on the floor, where it was held loosely in Joe’s hand, then extracts his phone to update Lou, who replies with three sad faces.

A loss with a 405 run margin is _not_ the time to risk rejection, Jos decides, as the lads sit, subdued in the bus back to their hotel, and if he leaves a text that says _ur a wimp xx_ on read, then no one needs to know. 

He’s surprised when Louise tells him _not_ to go for it after the Edgbaston victory, but Joe gets trashed early on, and Jos wonders how Louise knew that it wasn’t the one, as he watches Joe standing on the table with Stuart, singing Whitney like there’s no tomorrow. A similar scene unfurls in Nottingham, as Broady celebrates his 8-15, and Joe his 130, asking each other not to go breaking their heart, and he sends Louise a video of Broady and Joe lamenting that nobody told them, because nobody showed them. 

* * *

They lose the final match by an innings and 46 runs, and the dressing room is a mixed bag of emotions, having won the urn, but lost the match. Ali suggests they have a few drinks in the lounge at the hotel, and plan an Ashes Party next week, when they’re a bit more up from it than they are after an _innings_ defeat, which is met with positive reception.

Jos is sat on an armchair, chatting with Broady, who had perched himself on the arm, before he went to get himself another drink. Joe throws himself to the ground by Jos’ feet, leaning his head on Jos’ thigh and looking up at Jos. 

“Having a good time?” he asks, and just like that they’re off, bantering and ribbing each other, just like they had before, with genuine laughs and love sick smiles on their faces.

The chatter of the other lads continues around them, but Jos and Joe remain in their own corner, Jos asking him how it feels to be player of the series in an _Ashes_ series, and Joe flushing crimson, and they’re oblivious to the rest of the room. 

They stay there for the rest of the evening, until the party starts to draw to a close, lads beginning to go back to their rooms and Jos gets up, grabbing Joe’s extended hand and hauling him to his feet, hands lingering in each others’ for perhaps a little longer than necessary. Jos walks Joe to his room, and they pause outside, before Jos looks at Joe, 

“I’d like to take you out for dinner, if that would be OK,” fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, and hears as Joe breathes in sharply, eyes wide. 

“Now?” he asks, and Jos wants to say yes. Let’s go now, grab a bite and be reckless, but instead he replies, 

“No, not now, Joe. It’s half three, I think we’d struggle to get a reservation. But I was thinking, maybe in two days time?” 

* * *

In the same hotel, but in a different room, Ali feels a rush of happiness as he brushes his teeth and as he turns the light off and gets into bed, Jimmy looks at his expression, and smiles knowingly. 

“‘Bout time”, he grumbles, as they settle down to get some sleep. 

* * *

In London, a couple hours later, Arthur watches bemused as Louise checks her phone and punches the air with a whoop, turning to beam at Arthur showing him the screen: 

_we didnt plan this far ahead lou what the fuck do i WEAR_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Also if there are timeline mistakes and things don't make sense, I am very sorry, I must admit most of this is done from googling past tours that I watched when I was like eleven to fourteen, so I mean, my memories of chronology aren't exactly the most accurate, BUT I hope it didn't detract from the story..!!!  
> It's been a little quiet here recently, so I hope you're all OK and have a lovely weekend !!!  
> Hope you enjoyed, let me know if you liked it !! (or if you didn't like it what I could do to improve !!)  
> Lots of Love,  
> Peg Xx


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